


Love, Izuku

by thepensword



Category: Love Simon (2018), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Gen, Lazy title is lazy, Love Simon AU, M/M, but leave me alone, idk what other tags to use you know what this is, they're already in high school but this is like normal high school okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 14:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14334738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepensword/pseuds/thepensword
Summary: Izuku is ordinary.That is to say, he is not extraordinary. His life, as it is, is a good one; things follow a certain routine.  It’s a good routine, considering, and one filled with people he loves, people who support him. It should be an easy life. It should be a perfect life.It’s just this one thing. This one stupid, goddamn secret that keeps his head underwater.He’s gay and nobody knows it.





	1. pepper

**Author's Note:**

> i saw love simon and my bi heart did flips so obviously i had to write a tododeku au duh
> 
> Written in collaboration with the wonderful [maidsonas](http://maidsonas.tumblr.com) who helped with brainstorming and created some very lovely [artwork](http://maidsonas.tumblr.com/post/172531254360/so-me-n-my-buddy-thepensword-r-working-on-a).
> 
> This fic is cross-posted from tumblr and can also be found [here.](https://thepensword.tumblr.com/post/172623402954/love-izuku)

Izuku is ordinary.

That is to say, he is not extraordinary. His life, as it is, is a good one; things follow a certain routine. Wake up. Eat Eri’s Breakfast Of The Day. School. Home. Dinner. Bed. It’s a good routine, considering, and one filled with people he loves, people who support him. His parents, his sister, his friends.

It should be an easy life. It should be a perfect life. But sometimes, sometimes, Izuku feels like he’s floating, roots hanging free just inches from the soil. He’s just drifting through life, playing this never-ending game of _here I am but you will never know me in full_. It’s like walking a tightrope, skirting the edge between disaster and relief.

It’s just this one thing. This one stupid, goddamn secret that keeps his head underwater.

He’s gay and nobody knows it.

 

* * *

 

“Good morning, Izuku,” says his dad as he slides into the kitchen. He’s running late— _again_ —so despite the tantalizing smell coming from Eri’s latest pancake experiment, he only has time for a quick bite before running out the door.

“Honey, you should try to leave more time for breakfast,” scolds his mom as he shoves a bite into his mouth and gives Eri a thumbs up before dashing to the door. She beams at him and pops a blackberry into her mouth.

Then he’s out the door, running to the car and slinging his backpack into the seat beside him. Ochako will complain about that, he knows, before tossing it back into Tenya’s lap, but that is routine, too. It’s routine like stopping for coffee, like rolled down windows, like too-loud music. It’s routine like laughter and complaints about homework and poking fun at each other in a million stupid, meaningless ways.

It’s nice. Izuku can almost pretend he doesn’t have a secret. He can almost pretend to be completely normal.

“Good morning!” says Tenya, closing the door behind him with a click. Izuku grins at him over his shoulder as he kicks the car into reverse, peering through the rear window at Ochako’s garage despite the fact that he’s memorized the turn of the wheel and the few yards up her driveway. He could do it with his eyes closed, probably, but then Tenya would throw a fit and so he doesn’t risk it.

“Hey, boys!” says Ochako brightly, sliding into her seat and, predictably, chucking Izuku’s backpack over her shoulder and directly into Tenya’s lap. He makes a brief noise of complaint but moves it beside him anyway.

“Hey, Ochako,” says Izuku, smiling as he steers back out onto the road. Whatever drama he’s keeping inside, whatever secrets eat at his very core, the presence of his friends never fails to brighten his day. It’s easy to relax, around them.

“Did you check uasecret?” asks Ochako, brandishing her phone in the air. Izuku shoves it away from his face and in the backseat, Tenya gasps in affront and starts to splutter something about safe driving practice and not obstructing the driver’s vision.

“Ochako,” says Izuku. “You’re obsessed.”

“Yeah, I know, but get this: remember when they closed the pool? Apparently Hanta Sero and Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu put purple dye bombs in it and it clogged up the filters.”

“Are you serious?”

“That’s very irresponsible of them!” says Tenya as Izuku pulls up to the drive-through and rolls down the window. He makes a shushing motion over his shoulder and then turns to the speaker.

“Four iced coffees.”

Tenya taps his shoulder. “Momo likes hers with milk.”

“Of course she does,” mutters Ochako, and Izuku cringes internally. He loves his friends, and he loves having Momo in the group, but he can’t deny how awkward it makes it when both girls are in love with Tenya. One day they’ll get over it, he hopes.

The barista hands him the tray with its four coffees and he offers her a smile, passing the tray sideways for Ochako to hold. She hands him back his drink and he takes a large sip, wincing slightly at the bitter taste but smacking his lips in satisfaction regardless. “Okay,” he says, and cranks up the radio. “Off to Momo’s.”

“Off to Momo’s,” echoes Ochako with only the barest hint of bitterness to her tone, and Izuku only wishes he knew what to say.

He doesn’t, though, so he keeps his mouth shut and keeps driving.

 

* * *

 

“Jazz square starts on count _four_ ,” shouts Mr. Yamada, exasperation written on every line of his face. “Count _four!_ ” He sighs, loud enough for the sound to echo around the theatre, and rubs at his brow. “Alright, just…just do it again.”

Izuku chews on the inside of his lip and focuses on the music, trying to hear where count four is. Predictably, he’s late again, and Mr. Yamada throws his hands up in frustration.

“Ok, we’re done, go home and practice,” he says. “I want to see improvements tomorrow.” He looks so frustrated that Izuku feels a pang of pity; it must be hard, going from having a role in the televised performance of _Legally Blonde_ to directing a bunch of talentless high schoolers in a show that’s destined to bomb from the beginning. Momo might be the only saving grace here, and a good percentage of that is because of her sheer charm.

She’s walking over to him now, arms crossed in front of her chest and dark ponytail swinging behind her. “Hey, you’re doing great,” she says.

Izuku laughs. “No, I’m really not, but thank you.” She makes a noise of protest but he just shakes his head. “You’re doing amazing, though.”

“I could try and help you, you know,” says Momo. “If it’s counting you’re struggling with, I can show you some tricks for staying on the beat. You could come over to my house later if you’re not too busy.”

Izuku lights up at the chance to improve his frankly lackluster performance. “Oh, that’d be great! I think I can—”

“What’s this I hear? Momo’s offering dance lessons?”

They turn as one to face the newcomer. It’s Denki Kaminari, still wearing his top hat and flanked by his friend-slash-sidekick, Minoru Mineta. He’s grinning widely at them.

Izuku and Momo exchange a glance. She lifts an eyebrow at him and he shrugs helplessly.

“I’m not offering dance lessons,” says Momo cautiously. “Just helping Izuku out a little.”

“Hey, you know, I’ve been sort of struggling with a step in—”

“Denki,” interrupts Momo. “Listen, I’m really sorry but I don’t have time to be helping out the whole cast. Izuku’s my close friend and we see each other a lot anyway. If you’re struggling, maybe you could ask Mr. Yamada for clarification? Or Mina, she seems pretty on top of things.”

Denki’s face falls but he doesn’t press the issue further. “Okay, then, maybe another time,” he says, trying and failing to keep the dejection out of his tone. “Let’s go, Minoru.”

After they’re gone, Momo turns to Izuku with a look of guilt on her face. “Was that mean? He just…he looks really disappointed but I didn’t—”

“He’ll be okay,” assures Izuku. “Now when are you available again?”

 

* * *

 

“Nezu stole my phone again,” complains Ochako. “God, it’s so annoying, it’s not like I’m using it in class.”

“Still, school is a place of learning, not a place of texting,” counters Tenya. “I think Vice Principal Nezu is perfectly correct in confiscating phones.”

“I wasn’t _texting_ ,” retorts Ochako. “I was checking the blog.”

Momo leans forward and rests her hands on the back of Izuku’s seat. “Anything interesting?”

The look that passes over Ochako’s face is so brief that Izuku only catches the tail end of it and then wonders if he’d imagined it. “Eh, not so much,” says Ochako. “Just that same pool fiasco.”

“Then what’s the big deal about having your phone confiscated if it wasn’t anything interesting?”

“ _Izuku_.” Ochako swats him lightly, a playful frown on her face. “It’s the principle of the matter!”

“Sure it is,” says Izuku. The car rolls to a stop and he shifts it into park. “Here we are. Bye, Momo!”

“Bye!” says Momo and climbs out, closing the door behind her.

 

* * *

 

If you’d told Izuku that his world would change so drastically on the morning of a school day in early October, he wouldn’t have believed you. Yet he wakes up to his alarm and tastes change on the air.

He dresses like normal, checks his email like normal. His phone buzzes and then reveals Ochako’s face and this, too, is normal.

“Oh my god did you see the latest post on uasecret?” says Ochako the minute he picks up. Izuku rolls his eyes, already moving to stand and start packing for the day.

“Yeah, you told me about it yesterday, remember? The pool—”

“No,” interrupts Ochako, and something in her voice stops him. “About the closeted gay kid at school.”

Izuku’s heart stutters in his chest. Everything around him narrows down to those words— _closeted gay kid_. Someone else, at his school, just like him.

“Who do you think it is?” wonders Ochako. “Oh, maybe it’s that kid from math. You know, Neito Monoma? I don’t know, he just gives off this vibe—”

“Uh…oh, I have to go, Jeanist just took a huge dump on the carpet.” Izuku’s voice is a few octaves higher than normal and he can only hope she doesn’t notice. “I’ll call you back, Ochako—”

“Oh, no, Jeanist! Did you remember to feed him breakfast this morning?”

“I said I’ll call you back!” Izuku hangs up on her abruptly and then pauses, hands trembling above his keyboard. His heartbeat pounds so loudly in his ears that he cannot hear a single thing but for the rush of his own blood. Everything hangs in the balance, just for a moment, and Izuku can barely breathe.

_Another closeted gay kid at school. A kid just like him._

Equilibrium shatters and Izuku frantically types in the url to bring up uasecret. There, on the first page. It’s the most recent entry.

_Sometimes I feel like I’m on a ferris wheel. One moment, I’m on top of the world, and the next, I’m at rock bottom again. There’s a point at the top where you look out at the stars and think of all your friends and all the good things in the world, and then there are moments when the ride ends, when your father is shouting and you know how exactly how bad things can get. See, the thing is, I’ve got this secret that keeps me spinning on that ferris wheel, and not in a good way. It’s a secret that keeps me distanced from my friends, a secret that I know would put me in danger at home. Because here’s the secret: nobody knows I’m gay._

_—Pepper._

“Oh my god,” says Izuku, and then he sees the email address at the top of the post. His cursor hovers there for several deafening heartbeats before he’s making a new gmail account— _deku@gmail.com_ —and writing out all the emotions he’s kept bottled up inside for years and years and years.

_Dear Pepper. I’m just like you._

 

* * *

The day passes in a haze. Izuku is checking his email, he’s drumming his desk, he’s opening his phone again and again. This goes on and on and on and then Nezu has taken his phone and he’s more keyed up and anxious than he’s been in years.

He practically sprints to the car. Momo calls out a farewell and he hardly acknowledges her. He can barely breathe.

Izuku unlocks his phone with shaking fingers and nearly drops it when he sees the notification indicating an email in his inbox. An email, it says, from Pepper.

_A secret like mine, huh? Maybe neither of us are as alone as we thought. I’d be willing to talk if you are._

_—Pepper_

Izuku exhales shakily and a smile flickers over his lips. _Pepper_ , he types. _It’s so good to hear back from you. I’d love to talk. And I think you’re right—it’s nice to find out I’m not so alone, after all._

_—Deku._

He presses send and watches the email gets whisked away, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “Wow,” he says, breathless, and tries to pretend there aren’t tears in his eyes.

_Maybe neither of us are as alone as we thought._

Maybe this ferris wheel ride does have an end.

 

* * *

 

It’s wonderful.

There’s something magical about the secret, now. For years, it has been his and his alone, but now it feels like it’s also someone else’s. For once, he has someone to talk to about all the things he keeps inside: the cute boy on the basketball court he spotted walking past the park, the feeling of suffocation that comes with keeping everything in. Pepper is wonderful, intelligent and often dryly sarcastic, and Izuku finds himself laughing silently before his screen more times than not. He learns things about Pepper: he hates his father, he loves quiet walks in the park, he’s addicted to bubble tea.

(Izuku’s never had bubble tea before, but that weekend he goes to the place Pepper had recommended and orders a mango drink. It’s delicious, and he uses the sugar to distract himself from the part of him that’s disappointed to not recognize Pepper in the cafe.)

It’s perfect. It’s magical. Izuku has never been happier.

Which is, of course, why it has to end.

 

* * *

 

Denki corners him the minute he exits the library.

“Hey, dude!” he calls, and jogs to catch up to him. Izuku pauses, hand curling reflexively tighter around his phone.

“Uh, hey, Denki,” he says. He’s in a good mood right now; he’s just sent another email off to Pepper, and the bubbly feeling from the contact has yet to fade. Later, he’ll blame this feeling for his failure to recognize the warning bells that should, theoretically, have gone off in his head.

“So I used the same computer as you did. Right after you.”

Izuku rubs awkwardly at the back of his neck, curls prickling at his skin. “Um. Okay. Good for you?”

“No, no, listen.” Denki’s arm snakes around Izuku’s shoulders, pulling him close to murmur conspiratorially in his ear. “You left gmail open.”

Izuku’s blood runs cold.

“I…what?” His voice cracks on the last word but he can’t bring himself to care, because if he left is emails open and Denki saw them, then—”Did. Did you read them?”

Denki shrugs casually. “I may have glanced at them. So you’re gay?”

“I…” His mouth is dry. Is it hot in here? Is the hallway really spinning, or is that just him? Is this a dream, some horrible nightmare brought on by too much caffeine?

“It’s cool, dude, I’m chill with it,” says Denki, like he hadn’t just shattered Izuku’s entire universe. “I won’t show anyone.”

What?

“You won’t…. _did you print my emails?_ ”

“Not quite,” says Denki, still smiling like this is just a casual conversation between friends. Then, “I may have screenshotted them.”

Izuku, for once, wishes that his mother hadn’t raised him to be so polite because if she hadn’t, he’d have punched Denki in the face right then and there. “ _Why_.”

“Don’t worry, dude! I’ll keep them to myself. But hey, since I’m doing you this favor, think you can do a favor for me in return?”

Izuku didn’t think it was possible for his heart to rise even further up his throat, and yet here he is. Today had started out good. Things have been good for weeks and weeks and weeks and he’d been happy, he’d been able to be himself in his entirety for the first time since he discovered his own secret, so why, _why_ is this happening to him?

“Are you blackmailing me?”

Denki shrugs again. “Let’s not call it blackmailing. That sounds more horrible than it is. All I’m saying is you’re friends with Momo Yaoyorozu, right? Well, I was thinking maybe you could give her a little nudge in my direction?”

Izuku pulls away as if burned, rage boiling with fear and adrenaline in the pit of his gut. “I’m not going to do that! She’s my friend, not something you can buy with your shitty blackmailing tactics!”

Denki raises his hands in surrender and lifts his eyebrows. “Whoa, chill out,” he says. “I’m not asking for much. Just help me out a little, you know?” He pauses, and Izuku knows exactly what he’s going to say in the moment before he says it. “Remember, I’m keeping these emails for you.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” swears Izuku, and his fist lashes out and punches a locker before he can stop himself. The metallic clang echoes down the empty hallway and his knuckles burn, but he can’t bring himself to care. “Fine.”

“Great!” grins Denki. “You can come over to my house after school and give me some tips, you know?”

“Whatever,” says Izuku, and turns away. There are so many things he wants to say, so much poison waiting at the tip of his tongue, but he can’t say it because if he does then he will lose his secret to the school, he will lose these last few blissful, _private_ weeks, he will lose _Pepper_.

And that’s not something he can afford. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost Pepper, doesn’t know how he ever lived without him before that first fateful email.

“See you then!” calls Denki at his retreating back, and Izuku’s hands curl into fists. Pepper and his words, his bubble tea and his sarcastic humor and their shared appreciation for the art that is Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson’s ass and most of all, more important than anything, the secret that is theirs and theirs alone—these things are so fundamentally his, it feels like a violation to know that someone else has read them. And not just anyone, not his friends or his parents or his sister, but _Denki Kaminari_ , of all people. And the knowledge that with one wrong step, he could lose it all—

It’s almost more than he can stand.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t sleep that night. He’s staring up at his bedroom ceiling, unshed tears burning in the back of his throat, and he is thinking about all the things he could lose.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't be mad about kami i swear i have a plan to make him slightly less horrible than martin
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave me a comment if you enjoyed or stop by my [tumblr!](https://thepensword.tumblr.com)


	2. halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning(s): alcohol consumption by minors
> 
> The song used is "I'm Yours" by Alessia Cara

_Deku, **  
**_

_It’s good to hear you enjoyed the bubble tea. Mango, huh? I like the green tea, personally, but if you say mango is good then I’ll have to give it a try._

_I know in your last email you asked what I was doing for Halloween. I said I wasn’t dressing up, but that was a lie. I just didn’t want to potentially reveal my identity. I hope you understand._

_That said, I’m still excited for Halloween. I don’t always get to do anything for it, depending on whether or not my dad is home, but usually I can manage to sneak a bit of chocolate. My favorite are those pumpkin-shaped kit kats they only sell around this time of year. How about you?_

_—Pepper_

_Pepper,_

_Yeah, mango was really good! You should try it! Thanks for recommending the bubble tea place :) The bubble things were a little weird but good._

_I understand the costume thing. If you’re not ready, that’s fine. I can’t believe you like those weird orange kit kats! I haven’t actually had one but they look so weird? And there’s so much food coloring? Normal kit kats are vastly superior in my opinion ;P_

_Anyway, I hope you have a good Halloween! Good luck with your dad._

_—Deku_

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey,” says Shouto, sitting down at the table and offering one of those miniscule smiles of his.

“Hey, Shouto!” says Ochako around a mouthful of food. Izuku raises a hand in greeting before exchanging a look with Momo as Tenya admonishes Ochako about the choking hazards involved with speaking while still chewing.

“You’re smiling,” says Izuku, pointing at the expression on Shouto’s face. “You don’t usually do that. What’s up?”

“Well—”

“Shouto’s dad is out of town this weekend. Which means we’re throwing a party.” Tsuyu says it flatly, but there’s excitement gleaming in her eyes. Shouto nods along to this information, and the smile stays on his face.

“I’ve got the house to myself. Fuyumi even approved it. She’ll be getting out of the house to spend some time with friends, so it’s just us and whoever else can come. Figured it might be fun to trash the old man’s place.”

“It was my idea,” says Tsuyu proudly.

“ _Awesome_ ,”  says Ochako, pumping her fist. “Hey, guys! Party at the Todoroki mansion, this weekend! Tell your friends, tell your enemies! Spread the word, we’re trashing the place!”

The group of freshman she’s shouting at look surprised for just a moment before wide grins spread across their faces. Izuku sneaks a glance at Shouto to make sure he’s really alright with this; he’s hard to read, but Izuku thinks he looks content.

The conversation settles down to meaningless chatter as they all dig around in the lunchboxes. It’s late into lunch when Shouto reaches into his blue bag and pulls out a bright orange candy emblazoned with the kit-kat logo.

Izuku had been laughing at something Momo had said, but the sound dies on his tongue. He’s frozen, staring at that orange wrapper in Shouto’s hand.

_My favorite are those pumpkin-shaped kit kats they only sell around this time of year._

Izuku is staring, and his lips are forming a name— _Pepper_ —before he can stop himself, and then the bell rings and it’s over. They’re standing, shoving their leftovers back into their bags, and no one has noticed Izuku’s slip-up.

Almost no one, that is. Shouto’s eyes meet his for just a moment, flicking between the candy and his shocked expression, before he’s shoving it into his bag and turning away.

_Could Shouto be Pepper?_

“Izuku!” shouts Momo. “Come on, you’ll be late!”

Still too stunned to speak, Izuku wills his feet into motion again and follows his friends back inside.

 

* * *

 

“Aha,” says Tenya as he walks out of the house. “Mario and Luigi.”

Izuku raises an eyebrow at him. “What are you supposed to be?”

Tenya glances down at his own costume and smooths out a wrinkle. “I’m Oda Nobunaga,” he says, matter-of-fact. “He was a brilliant tactician and someone to be admired for his intelligence and leadership.”

Ochako laughs, a high, bubbly sound. “You’re so academic,” she says. Her red cap tilts dangerously on her head, so Izuku reaches out to push it back on before it can fall. She offers him a grateful smile, cheeks still pink from laughing.

“Hey, guys,” says Momo from the gateway. She’s dressed as Wonder Woman and looks absolutely stunning, and Izuku can only imagine what he’d think if he weren’t gay.

“Wow, you look...great,” says Ochako, and Izuku wonders if the pink in her cheeks is ever going to fade or if it’s permanent now. He sneaks a glance at Tenya to find his eyes blown wide behind his glasses.

“Ochako is right, that is a very good costume,” says Tenya.

Momo blushes pink and looks away. “It’s just something I threw together,” she says bashfully, twirling a finger absently through dark hair.

“Well, it looks good,” says Izuku, and smiles. The atmosphere is weird; Momo looks beautiful and Tenya is clearly unable to tear his eyes away, and the expression on Ochako’s face is hard to read. Izuku shifts uncomfortably and then suggests they go inside.

He’s just finished getting a glass of water from the fridge when the doorbell rings. Then it rings again. And again. Izuku sighs loudly and tugs at a loose curl that pops free from beneath his grass-green baseball cap.

“Who’s that?” asks Ochako, raising an eyebrow at him, and Izuku finds himself sighing again.

“I invited Denki.”

“You invited _Denki?_ ” Momo is staring at him like he’s crazy; they all are. And yeah, okay, maybe it’s a little weird to add Denki to the group when they’ve already got such an easy dynamic but he’s not _that_ bad, is he?

“Come on, guys,” says Izuku. “He’s cool!”

 

* * *

 

 

Denki is wearing the loudest outfit Izuku has seen in a very long time. It’s violently yellow, of various shades ranging from mustard to butter, and there are so many conflicting patterns that he almost hurts to look at. Denki grins at him from behind a frankly hideous pair of fake glasses and raises the pineapple in his right hand in some sort of bizarre tropical solute.

“Good Halloween!” says Denki, as if that’s something people actually say, as if they’re friends. “Is Momo here?”

“Uh.” Izuku clears his throat awkwardly and takes a step back to let Denki inside. “Yeah, she’s here. What are you…”

“I’m the pineapple apple pen guy!” says Denki enthusiastically as they enter the kitchen. Izuku’s friends are staring at him, mouth agape, and discomfort is evident on Momo’s face when he levels a pair of finger guns at her and compliments her costume—hers, and no one else’s.

“Great!” says Izuku, desperately trying to salvage the situation and failing miserably. “We’re all here!”

“Yeah,” says Ochako dryly. “Great.”

 

* * *

 

The car ride over is awkward and uncomfortable and a million other adjectives that describe the unease of the situation, but when they walk into Shouto’s virtual mansion full of costumed teenagers dancing to overly-loud music, Izuku thinks maybe things will be alright.

This feeling stays with him as the group drifts apart slowly, and as Shouto approaches them, dressed as a trash can with a red beard scribbled on his face.

“Greetings, Shouto!” says Tenya loudly. “I like your costume! What is it, exactly?”

“I’m my dad,” says Shouto in a monotone, and Tenya makes a sort of squawking noise. “What are you supposed to be?”

“Oda Nobunaga!”

“Ah,” says Shouto, and belatedly Izuku realizes he’s staring. “Interesting.”

“Thank you for hosting the party,” says Izuku awkwardly, mind full of buzzing thoughts— _is this Pepper? Is the boy standing before him the one with whom he’s shared more than any other?_

Shouto shakes his head nonchalantly, expression unreadable. “It’s not a big deal,” he says. “Any excuse to piss off the old man.”

“U _huh_ ,” says Izuku because really, how are you supposed to respond to something like that?

They move towards the table that’s set up with drinks and Shouto raises a bottle of beer, eyebrow raised questioningly. “Want any?”

“I’m driving,” says Tenya, somewhat disapprovingly. “And Izuku doesn’t drink.”

“I drink!” says Izuku. He doesn’t, but if Shouto really is Pepper, he doesn’t want to seem like a wimp. So he takes the offered plastic cup, stares dubiously down into the brown liquid, and then chugs it in one go.

It’s absolutely disgusting, but at least he did it.

Izuku slams the cup down on the table and shakes his head aggressively, forcing a sloppy grin onto his face. Shouto smiles back, one of those small smiles of his that’s barely even there, and pops open another bottle.

 

* * *

 

“ _But I torn down my walls and opened my doors_ ,” sings Izuku, and he’s definitely a little too loud and a little too tipsy but right now he doesn’t care. “ _And made room for one, so baby I’m yours_.”

Shouto grins at him, equally tipsy but a little less loud, and takes the next verse from his mouth. “ _I’m mad at you for being so cute and changing my mood and altering my rude. What’s wrong with you? You make me sick for being so perfect. What did I do? What can I do?_ ”

Shouto’s voice is surprisingly smooth, rich and layered like dark chocolate. Izuku is swept up in the wave that is the song, lost in the dual colors of Shouto’s eyes, and there is a moment where he forgets the boundaries that are straight and gay and he forgets about Denki and he forgets about Pepper.

“ _And I wasn’t trying to melt this heart of iron, but the way you hold me makes the old me pass away. And I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared to fall again. But if you promise me you’ll catch me, then it’s okay_.”

Shouto smiles at him, that delicate half-smile that’s suddenly making Izuku go weak at the knees, and then his voice slides in alongside Izuku’s to fill in the gaps and the harmony they create is only a little bit off-key.

“ _Cause I’ve had my heart broken before. And I promised I would never let me hurt anymore. But I tore down my walls and opened my doors and made room for one, so baby I’m yours_.”

“ _Oh, baby I’m yours_ ,” sings Izuku, and the room is bright and their friends are cheering and Shouto is smiling and despite everything, this feels right.

“ _Oh, baby I’m yours,_ ” responds Shouto.

 _Are you him?_ is what Izuku wants to say. _Are you Pepper?_ But he’s not quite drunk enough for that—not without knowing, not with everyone watching. But there’s something about Shouto that makes him brave so he puts all those words unsaid into the lyrics of the song. “ _Oh, baby, I’m yours,_ ” he continues, and then Shouto joins him to sing the final repeat and it’s like a dream.

“ _Oh, baby I’m yours._ ”

 

* * *

 

Izuku is sure now. The way Shouto looked at him when they’d sung together, the light in his eyes that’s so rarely visible, the bowl of Halloween kit-kats on the countertop—he has to be Pepper. He just _has_ to be. And right now, Izuku is too drunk to think about what happens if he’s not.

He opens the door to Shouto’s room with a smile on his face and finds himself staring at the worst-case scenario. Shouto turns wide eyes on him, lips pink from the lipstick of the girl currently sitting in his lap, and Izuku’s heart sinks low in his chest.

“Um, sorry,” says Izuku, not really able to hear himself over the roar in his ears. “I, uh...I thought this was the bathroom.”

“Right,” says Shouto, and Izuku closes the door on them. From the other side he can hear the resumed sounds of the pair aggressively making out, and it takes all of his willpower not to crumple right then and there.

 _It’s fine_ , he tells himself. _Shouto isn’t Pepper, so it doesn’t really matter. Pepper is in those emails, he’s still there, and he’s not kissing a girl in that bedroom. It doesn’t matter._

He ignores the part of himself that’s crying out that of course it matters.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe Denki,” says Izuku. “He just...and _all_ over my costume. Who barfs on Luigi?”

Ochako laughs and pushes him to the side, managing to keep him from falling over. “Denki does, apparently,” she says. “Now stop talking and focus on walking.”

Izuku smiles and starts to hum along to the opening number of their show. Ochako groans but eventually joins in, and despite tonight’s disappointments, Izuku is happy. He likes have Ochako here. He always has. She’s _Ochako_ , his best friend, and she doesn’t care that he’s drunk and reeks of vomit.

So things are good, until he sees the lights are still on in his house.

“Oh, no,” gasps Izuku. “My parents—”

“It’s okay,” reassures Ochako, though she sounds doubtful. “Just...don’t talk, okay?”

“Okay,” says Izuku dumbly and lets her all but carry him inside.

 

* * *

 

 

His parents look unhappy but they let him go without comment regardless. Later, they will have a conversation about intelligent party behavior, but they can tell in the moment that he’s too drunk to listen.

An hour later and Izuku thinks he might be starting to regain some executive brain function. He’s showered and in bed, and it’s quiet and calm. Ochako is sitting up on her cot, arms resting on the foot of Izuku’s mattress, and the expression on her face is difficult to read.

“Hey, Izuku?” she asks.

“Mm?”

“Do you ever feel weird?”

It’s such an unexpected question that Izuku is unable to respond for a long moment. Because yes, he does feel weird, in a million different ways at a million different times, but he has no idea what exactly it is she’s referring to.

“What?”

“You know.” Ochako turns to face him, chin resting on her forearm. “Like, people are nice and you have friends but you’re just on the outside. Like some people are beautiful and bright and people flock to them like moths, and then others are just...there. Do you ever feel like that?”

“I guess,” says Izuku, and he doesn’t say that he’s always felt like an outsider, all of his life—or at least all of his life since he realized he was gay. He doesn’t say that because that’s not what they’re talking about. They’re talking about Ochako, and they’re talking about Momo and Tenya.

“It’s just…” There’s something nervous in Ochako’s eyes, something that whispers of untold secrets. “I wish it was easier to understand people. I wish it was easier for other people to understand you. It’s hard, not knowing someone the way they know themselves.”

And Izuku gets that, because being closeted is a strange duality between _I wish you knew_ and _I’m scared of what would happen if you did_. He doesn’t know how to verbalize that, though, without giving it all away, without letting Ochako know everything he’s worked so hard to hide.

He wants to tell her. He really does. But it’s hard, and he doesn’t know how.

“Yeah,” is all he says. She almost looks disappointed for a moment, before sliding back down onto her cot and turning away from him.

“It’s late,” says Ochako. “We should sleep.”

“Yeah,” says Izuku again, and he can’t help but feel that somehow he’s done something wrong.

“Izuku?”

“Hm?”

A pause, like she wants to say something else but doesn’t know how, just like him. They’re so alike in so many of the ways that matter.

“Goodnight.”

Izuku sighs and pulls his blankets up over his legs. “Goodnight, Ochako.”

 

* * *

 

 

_pepper,_

_i hope you had a good Halloween! i bet your costume was awesme, whatever it was. get any good kit-kats? :P i had fun tonight but it was a little weird. weird things happened even though it was fun. also im kinda tired. its really late i should probably be asleep whoops but im really hyped up on sugar haha_

_i almost wish i could show you my costume. sometimes i wonder if this anonymity thing is really worth it. i mean i know it is but also i kinda wish i knew what you looked like. sorry is that weird? thats weird im sorry ignore me. secrets are for a good reason i know that._

_anyway i hope you had fun and i hope you got lots of disgusting orange kit kats_

_love, deku_

_Deku,_

_I had a good Halloween. I did get lots of candy though there were surprisingly few orange kit-kats this year, unfortunately._

_I hate to say this but you sound a little bit drunk. Is it just the sugar, or…_

_Either way, it’s fine. I’m just a little curious, I guess._

_Love, Pepper_

* * *

 

 

Izuku stares at the affectionate signature—the one he’d sent by accident, the one Pepper had responded with that can’t possibly have been a mistake, because Pepper doesn’t do _anything_ by accident—and exhilaration shoots through his veins.

So last night was a little bit of a rollercoaster. He’d sung with Shouto and he’d been happy, he’d caught him making out with a girl and had his hopes crushed, he’d been drunk, he’d had an emotional conversation with Ochako—it had been weird. Disappointing and thrilling and strange in a million different ways.

But maybe that’s what makes life exciting. Maybe that’s the point of the ferris wheel. Maybe the ups are less thrilling without the downs.

Pepper is home base, in a way. He’ll always have these emails. He can always count on a witty, dryly sarcastic reply. He can always count on Pepper’s presence in his inbox.

(He ignores the voice that says he could lose it all, the voice that sounds a lot like Denki.)

Izuku smiles fondly and types his reply.

 

* * *

 

 

_Pepper,_

_You’re right, I was drunk. Sorry about that. Last night was a little bit wild._

_I’m glad you got some kit-kats, at least, even if they’re gross. I, for one, have a large stash of peanut butter cups to get through._

_I have to get ready for school now, but I’ll talk to you later!_

_Love, Deku_

_Pepper,_

_I just read my email from last night and I realized how much I pried. I’m really sorry about that. Your secrets are your secrets and there’s a reason our identities are staying as such. I don’t want you to feel pressured._

_It’s just that I feel like we’re close, you know? I know that’s a little weird since I don’t actually know who you are, but I still feel that I know you. I guess in my drunk mind I forgot that I don’t._

_Love, Deku_

_Deku,_

_It’s not weird. Sometimes I feel that way too._

_Love, Pepper_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the drill. Comment! Or visit my [tumblr](https://thepensword.tumblr.com)! Thanks for reading!


End file.
